


the devil's in the details, but you've got a friend in me.

by thotsandfeelings



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:54:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25731688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thotsandfeelings/pseuds/thotsandfeelings
Summary: “I didn’t realize there were capitalization levels to the best friend title.”
Relationships: Josh Lyman/Donna Moss
Comments: 8
Kudos: 77





	the devil's in the details, but you've got a friend in me.

“I like you, Josh,” Donna slurs, head coming to rest on his shoulder.

He grins. “I like you, too.”

“I’m serious,” she says, a small pout forming on her face. He wants to kiss it off of her. 

“I know you are,” he says instead, squeezing her upper arm. He moves to run his knuckles over her spine in a comforting gesture. He loves when she gets like this. She’s working on her third Rusty Nail, and third drink Donna transforms into a snuggly affectionate sap. He’s gonna milk it for as long as he can. 

“You’re my best friend,” she states, as if it’s the most simple and non-complex thing in the world and his heart warms.

“You’re mine,” he replies. “You’ve been mine for a long time.”

He's not lying or telling her what he thinks she wants to hear either. She is his best friend. He can't remember when she slid into the holder of that title (probably around the time he placed his badge in her hand), but he's not gonna think about it too hard. Donna is his best friend. It's just the way his world works. 

Donna just shakes her head and reaches forward to grab her drink and takes a sip. They’re at the Hawk and Dove with Sam, CJ, and Charlie, blowing off some steam after another day in the West Wing. The aforementioned three staffers are currently on the dance floor, singing along to some Fleetwood Mac that the DJ is playing. Josh opted he and Donna out of dancing when she’d tried to stand up and swayed unsteadily, her second drink of the night hitting her bloodstream.

“You’re my _Best Friend_ , though,” she says, as if that clarifies anything. “Capital B, capital F. I’m just your best friend. No capitals.” She sighs sadly and takes another sip, her mouth missing the straw at first.

Josh chuffs out a laugh. “I didn’t realize there were capitalization levels to the best friend title.”

“Well," she says, wounded. "There are.”

He has to bite back a grin at her indignation toward him not knowing her wacky rules of friendship and he runs his hand up her back again affectionately. Drunk Donna doesn’t find his mocking as endearing as Sober Donna does.

“Well,” he repeats softly, nudging her arm so she’ll look up at him. “You’re my _Best Friend,_ then. With all the capitals.”

His fingers move to brush a stray piece of hair off her flushed cheek and wills her to see the same emotions shining through his eyes as he does when he looks deeply into her bloodshot ones. Drunk Donna is an open book to him and he revels in the moments when the walls come down and they can pretend, even just for a minute, that they don’t work together. That her in his arms in the middle of a loud bar is just a normal Wednesday night that doesn't lead to air time on the morning shows and whispers of _can't Democrats keep it in their pants?_ That this _thing_ between them is real and not just a pipe dream.

"But I'll have to draw the line at braiding each other's hair." He reaches up and tugs affectionately again on her blonde hair.

She hiccups, offended, and gives him a glare. "Braiding is rule number 4, Josh!"

He literally can't help himself when he leans even closer to her, completely under her drunken spell and happy to be there. He's about to tell her he'll settle for matching friendship bracelets when - 

“Donna, you sure you don’t wanna come dance? You love this song,” Sam has made his way back over to them, his top two shirt buttons undone in the warm bar and breathing a little heavier from dancing. Donna turns her attention to Sam, her eyes bright with agreement, but her face falls when she feels her coat being wrapped around her shoulders. 

“I’m gonna walk Drunky here home,” Josh states, throwing a couple bills down on the table to cover the tip. He steps out of the booth, moving Donna’s drink out of the way before her nimble fingers can snatch it. 

“‘M not drunk,” she mutters, but stumbles slightly when her heel catches on the side of the booth. Josh throws out a hand to steady her sea legs and shakes his head.

“Sure you’re not,” he says, wrapping her scarf around her neck and helping her whip her hair out of the collar of her coat. She teeters again, this time using Sam’s elbow to steady herself and she giggles merrily. 

“Come on,” Josh says, voice full of amusement. He loves when she’s laughing. “Before you hurt yourself.”

“You’re no fun,” she pouts, leaning over to give Sam a goodbye peck on the cheek. 

“I’ll tell CJ and Charlie you guys are leaving,” Sam replies. “Have a good night. And make sure she gets some Tylenol before she passes out, Josh.”

“I will,” Josh says, looking over at Donna, who’s eyeing her unfinished drink again. He tugs her away from the table before she gets any ideas. “Thanks, buddy. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Sammy,” Donna throws over her shoulder as Josh leads her out of the bar with a warm hand on the small of her back.

He turns left toward her apartment, hurrying her along in the chilly October night. “Not just anyone can get away with cutting me off like that, you know,” Donna grumbles after a minute, leaning heavily into Josh’s side. “You’re lucky I like you so much.”

Josh just smiles and wraps his arm tighter around her waist. “Yes, I am.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've been watching The West Wing during quarantine and I'm completely enamored by these two. My muse picked up and here we are. Hope you enjoy!


End file.
